For William and Noah

Two years. How has it been two years since I held my baby boys in my arms?

It has been two years and the journey to the cemetery has become no easier. Going there always brings the familiar sting of tears, along with the sad reality that this is the place where we go to see our sons. A place for parents and grandparents that have lived a long and full life, yes. But it should never be a baby's home.

The place of lost dreams and endings that came before beginnings.

And love. So much love. Shown through tenderly decorated graves - the balloons, the toys, the poems. The carefully selected words and butterflies and windmills chosen by parents who don't get to demonstrate their love through cuddles and kisses and tucking in at bedtime, who will never get to see their babies grow up. It is a sad place, but a peaceful one. A solemn place, but not a lonely one. There are too many babies laid to rest there for it to be lonely. How bittersweet. 

There are so many things I could write, but in the end, all it comes down to is that I want my babies here with me. In my arms. My heart aches for my two little boys. We can fill our lives with new memories and new joy, but that ache remains - I want my babies here in my arms and it can never be, and there is nothing in my heart that can make it right. It is difficult to make peace with that.

Our perfectly healthy little boys, with their beautiful tiny fingers and toes. I remember how sweet and small they were. How we could pick out our own features in their faces. William moved as I held him. He held on for as long as he could. We are so thankful we got to spend time with him whilst he was alive. 

William and Noah would have been two years old today. I don't know what they'd look like, or what their individual personalities would be - whether they would be shy or rambunctious or outgoing. I will never hear the sweet sound of their laughter, or how their faces would light up when they smiled. I will never witness their special twin bond, and the unique relationship that would have blossomed between them. Two lives that never got to live. A lifetime of smiles and giggles and tears and tantrums and cuddles and kisses, and first kisses and first days of school and first loves, all erased in a moment.
They changed our lives forever. If I could, I would go back in time. I would endure the sickness, the uncertainty and the worry all over again. I would go through all the scans and the hospital stays and the invasive medical procedures. I would be given the devastating news, the false hope, then no hope at all, all over again. I would struggle through the labour, knowing all the while that their birth would mean their death. I would do it all, just to feel them move again, just to see their faces again, just to hold them in my arms again. Even just for a moment.

If I could, I would do it all over again, so I could experience that raw, beautiful love that they gave me all over again. I would always choose them.

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